


Nurse Eddie

by rabidchild67



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-29
Updated: 2011-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1346188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monroe is a surprisingly caring and efficient caregiver.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nurse Eddie

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in the very early days of S1, when an IMDB entry ascribed the first name "Eddie" to Monroe in error and the fandom was all over it. I've since updated all my stories written at the time except for this one - given the title (at the time I thought I was so clever - it is a takeoff from the title of the film "Nurse Betty").

“Jesus! What the hell was that thing?” Nick asked, trying to catch his breath. “It moved so fast!”

“ _Tengu_ ,” Eddie answered his voice a deep rumble, “and it’s a long way from home. Did it say anything to you? About why it’s here, maybe?”

“Nah, just the usual, ‘Fuck you, Grimm,’ posturing. It’s like I get no respect.”

“Yours is not the most imposing visage,” Eddie snarked. “Anything else?”

“Nah, it just talked trash, shoved me down and took off.” He winced as he moved his arm.

“It – did it touch you?” Eddie asked, alarmed. He took a step toward Nick, who was blinking rapidly and visibly paler suddenly.

“Just a scratch, I –“ Nick fumbled at his left sleeve, but started swaying suddenly, shaking his head as if to clear it.

“Shit,” Eddie said under his breath, moving forward, but Nick had already dropped to one knee.

“I feel funky,” he muttered before passing out. Luckily, Eddie was there to catch him.

“You’ll feel even worse soon enough,” Eddie said, worry tingeing his voice. _Tengu_ were poisonous to humans – just one touch would lead to severe flu-like symptoms, and a bite was known to be fatal. Eddie didn’t know what a scratch meant, but he supposed it couldn’t be good. With a grunt, he hoisted Nick into his arms and carried him back towards the car.

\----

“Wha-wha’s goin’ on?” Nick mumbled as Eddie lifted him out of the passenger seat of his VW.

“We’re home,” Eddie grunted, closing the door with his foot and adjusting his grip around his lover.

“No, we’re not, we’re _home_ ,” Nick said, his voice slurring. 

_So, add “loopy” to the list of symptoms of a tengu scratch_ , Eddie thought as he doubled his pace carrying Nick up the walk to the house. He sighed as he considered the long flight of stairs to the second floor and thought Nick would be just as comfortable on the couch. He walked over and laid him gently down, cradling his head in his right hand as he eased it onto the arm of the couch. 

“Don’t go,” Nick said, catching Eddie’s hand with his.

“I wasn’t going to.”

Nick smiled and closed his eyes. 

Eddie hunkered down beside him and took hold of his left arm, pushing the sleeve up. There were three deep scratches on Nick’s forearm, and they were alarmingly swollen, the skin around them already an angry red. He sniffed at them – the _tengu_ scent was strong, musky, dank. He prodded at the scratches and Nick flinched, whimpering in pain. “Sorry, sorry!” he muttered, and went up to the bathroom to find some bandages and Neosporin. 

When he returned, Nick was unconscious, which was alarming enough, but his arm looked like it was beginning to swell even more. He cleaned the wounds and covered them with gauze, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Remembering the things his Oma taught him when he was a boy, he knew he’d have to get something to draw the poison out, and that the supplies he needed were not to be found in Nick’s house. 

He bent over the couch and laid his hand on Nick’s chest and shaking him, gently but firmly. “Nick?” 

After saying his name three times, Nick finally roused. “Hmm?” he said, his eyes still closed.

“I have to go out and get some supplies. Will you be OK for half an hour on your own?”

Nick blew air out of his mouth, ruffling his bangs. “I’m a big boy,” he said confidently.

Eddie rested his hand on top of his head. “Yes you are. Just stay right there and I’ll be back in a jiff.”

\----

Unfortunately, the health food store he normally used was out of a few ingredients, and so it was more like an hour before he returned to Nick’s house. He walked through to the living room to check on him and was alarmed to find he was not on the couch where he had left him. 

“Nick?” Eddie walked quickly through the downstairs of the house and still could not find the injured Grimm. “Nick?” When he reached the kitchen, he saw that the sliding glass door to the back deck was open; he put his bags down on the island, then went to investigate. He found Nick sitting on the top step of the deck, leaning against the railing. 

Eddie crouched down next to him, placed a hand between his shoulder blades. His shirt was soaking, his skin hot to the touch. “So hot,” he sighed.

“So it seems, but I don’t think this is the best place for you, guy.”

When Nick looked at Eddie, his eyes were glassy, unfocused. “No?”

“No. Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Nick nodded and tried to pull himself up unsuccessfully. When Eddie took hold of his left elbow, Nick cried out in pain so loudly he jumped. 

“I’m sorry!” he said, moving away as Nick fell onto his back, cradling the arm against his belly and sobbing from the pain. 

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” he moaned, “help me.”

Knowing he must act, Eddie swept Nick into his arms and bore him back into the house. Laying him down on the kitchen table, he tore into the bags he’d brought and quickly mixed the ingredients for the poultice together in a Frosted Flakes cereal bowl – pollen, raw honey, willow bark and other herbs. Taking up another bandage, he returned to the table, pulled the other bandages off and couldn’t suppress a gasp of shock. 

Nick’s forearm had swollen to twice its normal size, and the swelling was beginning to creep up past the elbow. Figuring speed trumped sterility, he slathered the poultice onto the scratches – Nick trying to pull his arm away the entire time – then covered it all up with a clean gauze pad. 

“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” Nick was saying, his voice reminding Eddie of an injured child. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Eddie said, pushing Nick to a seated position and sitting behind him. He wrapped his arms around the Grimm, cradling him against his chest and rocking him, whispering his apologies into his ear.

Eventually, Nick seemed to quiet down and Eddie took the opportunity to look at him closely. His face was flushed and sweaty, making Eddie fear how high his fever might be. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was raspy, and Eddie wondered if he wouldn't be more comfortable elsewhere. Lifting him gently once again, he took him back to the living room and laid him on the couch. He went and fetched a thermometer from the medicine cabinet and got Nick to accept it in his mouth. It soon beeped: 103F. 

Eddie sighed. There wasn’t much more to be done. He knew from the lore that conventional medicine would be of little help with a mystical infection. He hoped he’d gotten the poultice on in time – and he also knew there wasn’t much to be done now but wait. He sat on the floor next to the couch, shoulder resting sideways against the cushions, and Nick turned his flushed face into the curve of Eddie’s neck. Eddie leaned his head down and nuzzled a bearded cheek against his partner’s sweat-dampened hair and closed his eyes, waiting and hoping for everything to come out all right.

\----

Eddie stood with a mug of coffee in his hands, staring out into the night from the open sliding glass door. He’d changed the poultice already once, and he was sure the swelling was worse now, the wounds bright red and hot to the touch. He didn’t know how the _tengu’s_ poison worked, but the poultice would draw it out of Nick – it had to. Thoughts of what would happen if it didn’t were not allowed.

There was a sound in the other room, or rather a change in the sounds he’d become used to over the last hours. Nick’s breathing had shifted, changed. He walked through to the living room, paused in the doorway and dropped his coffee mug.

Nick was shuddering on the couch, arms clutched in front of him, the cords standing out in his neck, and Eddie realized with dread that he was having a seizure. When he reached for Nick, he could feel the heat radiating off of him. Not taking the time to take his temperature, Eddie hauled Nick up into his arms and ran for the stairs.

Laying Nick down on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor, Eddie began to fill the tub with cold water. As it filled, he pulled the Grimm’s shirt off, wincing as the gauze pads fell away and he caught sight of the angry red gashes on his arm. He fumbled with the belt on Nick’s jeans, the button and zipper, tugged at them too roughly, the motion pulling Nick along with them. He eased his fingers along the waistband and slid them down that way instead. 

Before long, he thought the tub was filled enough, and he lifted Nick again. Thankfully, the seizure seemed to have stopped for the moment, but the man was as limp as a ragdoll in his arms. He practically dropped him in the tub, the water sloshing over, soaking the floor, the little blue fuzzy rug by the toilet, Eddie’s own pants. He pushed down on Nick’s chest, submerging as much of his torso as he could, then snaked a hand behind his neck to keep his face clear of the water. With his other hand, he took up a washcloth and soaked it, laid it on Nick’s forehead.

“Come on, come on, come on,” he chanted under his breath, watching Nick closely for signs of consciousness, signs of life. But he got none. Nick’s breathing was shallow, his chest barely moving with it and Eddie said a silent prayer that he’d come out of this.

Eddie sat beside the tub until his arms went numb, until his back screamed in protest, until finally, miraculously, Nick finally stirred. “Nick?” he said, his voice hopeful.

“Mrmmmf.”

“Nick, wake up, please wake up.”

Nick’s lashes fluttered and he opened his eyes as if it took a great effort. “What happened?”

“You had a really high fever.”

“C-cold.”

“Well, yeah.” Eddie stood and pulled the drain on the tub, went in search of some towels. Nick was sitting up when he returned, folded in on himself and shivering. Eddie dropped a towel over his shoulders and pressed it in around him, drying as much as he could, mindful of his injured arm, before having to ask him to move. A hand on his shoulder coaxed Nick to ease back, and Eddie managed to dry his chest and belly with another towel. 

“Think you can stand?”

“I don’t – I can try.”

Eddie reached around his back and pushed him to his feet, helped him from the tub to stand shivering on the soaking bath mat. Nick leaned into Eddie heavily, his head on his shoulder, trembling. Eddie grabbed another towel and laid it over the toilet seat, sat Nick down and dried off the rest of him. By the time he was done, Nick was hunched forward, barely able to keep his head up. Eddie grabbed the flannel robe off the hook behind the door, got him into it and helped him to the bedroom. 

When he’d gotten him comfortably under the covers, Nick looked up at Eddie and blinked. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Why?”

“For putting you through this.”

“What? Don’t be crazy. You’d do the same.” Nick shivered and blinked again, his eyelids drooping. “You’d do the same, right?”

“Yes, but this is just…kind of above and beyond is all.” He closed his eyes.

“I don’t see it that way,” Eddie answered quietly, but Nick was already asleep.

\----

“No. Marie, no.” Nick was muttering in his sleep.

Eddie, who’d finally succumbed to exhaustion two hours before and slept curled in a ball on top of the covers next to Nick, was immediately awake. He sat up and lifted up the bandages. The swelling had gone down dramatically from the night before. “Hey,” he said quietly, a gentle hand atop Nick’s head; he wasn’t as hot as before either, and Eddie allowed himself a sigh of relief.

When Nick opened his eyes, there were tears in them. “What’s the matter? Bad dream?” Eddie was vaguely aware that his voice had taken on a higher pitch, like he was talking to a child. He’d slap himself later.

Nick nodded. “She was so, so disappointed in me.”

“Marie?”

“She said I’ll never measure up. She said the line ends with me and I let everybody down.”

“She wouldn’t say that. She would never have said that. She was proud of you and she loved you.”

Nick blinked and the tears fell into his pillow. 

“But that’s how _you_ feel, isn’t it? Like you don’t measure up? Like you’re disappointing your aunt?”

Nick didn’t reply right away, so Eddie continued. “Because she could have prepared you better for this, Nick. She could have taught you, told you what you needed to know, instead of protecting you. That was her choice, not yours. And I don’t know, maybe she thought she’d have more time, but you not being prepared for all of this isn’t your fault.”

“She was so disappointed,” Nick repeated. “I’m not worthy of the trust she placed in me. I’ll never be worthy. I’m so alone.”

Eddie suspected Nick’s illness was fueling the self pity, but he was annoyed nevertheless. “What do you mean, you’re not worthy? You are beyond worthy, Nick. You are a good man and a hero, and you save lives. OK, so, maybe you could do with a bit more weapons or self defense training, but honestly, who couldn’t? No one’s perfect. 

“And incidentally, you are not alone. I’m with you. Haven’t I been through all of this? Haven’t I had your back, and haven’t you had mine? Why do you think that is, exactly? Do you think it’s something I set out to do? Did I wake up one day and say to myself, ‘Edwin, we’re going to betray every instinct we have and fall in love with a freaking Grimm today, how’s that for a plan?’ No. No, I didn’t. I did it because I believe in you, and your mission. I did it because it’s right. I did it so you _wouldn’t have to go it alone,_ Nick.”

Eddie was letting his frustration show and he didn’t want to. He pushed himself off the bed and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To make breakfast.”

Eddie stomped down the stairs, but his anger had dissipated by the time he reached the kitchen. As he pulled eggs, milk, and bread out to make French toast, he realized that he’d maybe been too hard on Nick. He was sick and weak and feeling sorry for himself – that’s all it was. And Eddie was letting the worry and exhaustion of the last 18 hours get to him. He was rooting around in the pantry for the maple syrup when a footfall behind him made him turn around.

Nick was standing in the doorway, robe in disarray, barefoot, dark hair sticking out from his head like some sort of parody of the Statue of Liberty. “What are you doing out of bed?” Eddie chided, taking a step toward him.

Nick swayed slightly on his feet, and steadied himself on the door’s frame. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, eyes wide and lips pursed.

 _Oh. Oh, shit. He’d said that, hadn’t he?_ Eddie suddenly found the crack in the corner of the ceiling to be endlessly fascinating.

“You said you’re in love with me.”

“Did I? I did. Oh. Hmm.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a fling. You said just sex and violence. We had a deal.”

“I know.”

“You made a deal,” Nick repeated.

“About that –“

“I never wanted that deal,” Nick interrupted him before he could try to talk his way out of it.

“What?”

“I just went along with it, cuz I wasn’t sure it would last. I had feelings for you, I always did.”

“You did?”

“But you just wanted an affair, and I thought that’d be … I thought I’d be OK if… “ Nick shook his head, “is…is the room spinning?”

Eddie rushed over to him and helped him into a chair at the table. “You shouldn’t exert yourself,” he fussed, pulling Nick’s robe tighter around his shoulders. As he did, Nick stretched forward to try to kiss him, but missed and it landed somewhere to the left of Eddie’s Adam’s apple. Eddie straightened up, but let his forefinger trail along the line of Nick’s jaw. 

“You’re in love with me,” Nick said – a statement, not a question.

“I suppose I am.”

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled. Hey, do you think you could help me get back to bed? Because I’d like to pass out now, please.” 

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, but when Nick sagged against him, he realized he wasn’t kidding. Again he lifted Nick into his arms – he’d been doing this a lot lately, he ought to maybe start working on his upper body – settling him with his head against his chest.

“Whoa,” Nick said as he lifted him, clutching Eddie’s shirt with his fingers. The tug of the fabric pulled at Eddie’s chest, at his heart. 

“Don’t worry, I gotcha.” 

“Yeah?”

“I’ll always have you,” he replied and headed for the stairs.

\----

Thank you for your time.


End file.
